


Girls and their Curls (Mozzarella's fem!Bagginshield jamboree)

by Mozzarella



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Female Bilbo, Female Bilbo Baggins/Female Thorin Oakenshield, Female Thorin, Trans Character, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 23:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3547679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mozzarella/pseuds/Mozzarella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Took some fem!Bagginshield prompts over at my tumblr and wrote a couple of short (well, they were SUPPOSED to be short) fics for them.</p><p>Chapter 1: Thorin's Company is Thorin's Coven, and Bilbo is a witch who uses light magic to grow her garden. Thorin doesn't really think Bilbo's a good addition to her coven, no matter what the medicine man Gandalf (an old friend of her mother's) says. </p><p>Chapter 2: Bella and Thorin meet at a clinic. Bella's well into her transition and Thorin's just starting out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Moon in Starless Evening

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do some fem!Thorin/fem!Bilbo stuff today since I had the whole day off :3 If you guys have prompts, you can still hit up my tumblr at muchymozzarella, though I'll have to wait til next weekend for time.

“Gandalf, what in seven hells were you thinking?”

 

“My dear Thorin, I don't know what you're talking about.” The medicine man's eyes were twinkling brightly even as he said this barefaced lie, and Thorin sighed, smacking her own forehead in exasperation.

 

“This... this _grocer,_ she's not coven material. She doesn't even look like she knows the meaning of the word curse. The most she's ever destroyed using magic look to be the weeds in her garden. Gandalf,” Thorin interrupted with a hand raised as Gandalf opened his mouth to argue. “Her skills are all well and good here, in her home, where she thrives. With her cosy home, with her books and her garden. Not on the road where she must learn to meet the dark powers of the world with her own.”

 

“Thorin Oakenshield,” Gandalf said, his tone scolding, making Thorin feel like a child again, Gandalf and her mother keeping her from entering a room while they worked on brews and darker spells (darker, Thorin learned later, meaning more intimate, and she couldn't quite face the medicine man for a few months after that). “Bilbo has more untapped potential than any of you know, and you shouldn't discount her light magic simply because it is different from your own. I think she would be an excellent addition to your coven, and since when have I ever led you astray?”

 

Thorin raised an eyebrow, recalling all the times Gandalf _had_ led her astray, often rolling off of cliffs and falling off trees while she helped him gather supplies as a child. But, she admitted, he had never done anything that had truly put her in danger, and was always there to help her out of it after. 

 

“Fine. But I will not be responsible for her fate.” 

 

“No,” Gandalf agreed. “But perhaps she will be taking responsibility for yours,” he added quietly. 

 

* * *

 

 

“Thorin! Thorin!” 

 

Thorin felt herself rocking in and out of consciousness, as if borne on some gentle tide, and for a long time even the familiar voice crying out to her could not wake her. Eventually, though, when she opened her eyes and did not close them again, she found herself waking with a relieved Gandalf looming over her and a tired Bilbo Baggins smiling down at her, her hands pricked with many wounds that could not have been anything but a blood spell. 

 

“What did you do?” Thorin said immediately, taking her hands into her own. “What did you...” 

 

“She saved your life,” Gandalf said. 

 

“But you... you never do blood spells,” Thorin said. “You said so yourself, you only do nature magic. Light magic. You don't...” 

 

“I had to,” Bilbo said, shoulders heaving. “You were dying and I could heal, but it's... well healing a wilting cabbage and healing a person are two entirely different things, and I couldn't... I couldn't lose you, Thorin.” 

 

Thorin blushed. Oh, she hated to be put on the spot like that, like some untouched spring maiden rather than the daughter of the moon that she was, but Bilbo Baggins—with her cursed soft curls and her enormous, worried eyes and pink lips (often chapped over the course of their trip, and no less alluring and kissable)—had such an effect on Thorin, more than she cared to admit.

 

Before, at least.

 

But this woman, this untried light witch, she'd saved her life. She'd given blood to see Thorin live and heal, and that was more than loyalty. That was beyond any kindness Thorin had expected from her.

 

So Thorin did what she thought was appropriate at that moment.

 

Slowly, she raised Bilbo's hand to her mouth and kissed the back of it, making Bilbo blush crimson all the way down her neck, an endearing sight Thorin wondered if she might see more of.

 

Gandalf moved aside as Bilbo leaned in to Thorin's gentle tug, a suggestion that could be rejected if she wished, though it seemed that rejection was the last thing on Bilbo's mind in that moment.

 

With an effort Thorin knew would be worth it, she leaned up, cupped Bilbo's face with one hand, and kissed those chapped lips softly, pulling away when she saw the wide-eyed wonder in Bilbo's eyes.

 

“Thank you,” Thorin whispered. “My dear healer.”

 

And Bilbo smiled, more radiant than even the moon in a starless evening.

 


	2. Earth's lovely daughters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bella is partway through her transition when she meets Thorin, who might just be the most breathtaking person she's ever seen. 
> 
> She likes big men, sure... but she likes big girls too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hesitate to correct me if I borked up anything! I'm not intimately familiar with what goes on during MTF transitions and gleaned my knowledge from online articles and shared experiences by transwomen. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

 

She always liked the name Bella. Bella meant “beautiful” in Italian, and it was her mother's name (Belladonna, as graceful a name as the woman herself was). Her mother was beautiful and her name suited her, though her daughter was a bit of a plain jane in comparison.

 

Her father didn't have actor good-looks, as he called them, and was a plump man with plain features, not at all ugly but with a hint of handsomeness that was not in any way striking or catching to the eye.

 

Still, the two, as different as they were, were madly in love, and stayed that way until they died, too young, leaving a daughter, too young—though at that time, in a black suit and with aunts and uncles clutching her shoulder with uncomfortably weighty hands, others thought they'd left a son.

 

And for a long time, so did Bella.

 

* * *

 

 

It was nice to work in a bookshop where you got all kinds, where the people who worked with you shrugged their shoulders and laughed when you told them you were to be called “Miss Bella” from now on, who said “Well sure boss. You know what, we should set up a jar. We'll put in every time we call you Mister, how does that sound?”

 

“Kili, you couldn't even remember her last name for the first six months you were here, you really think you won't slip up now?” Fili scoffed. Kili scowled. “Well this is different. Tell them, boss!”

 

“You boys shouldn't pick on him,” Bella laughed, sighing.

 

“Why now, though? Why not before, Bells?” Bofur asked, already with the nicknames. Bella shrugged.

 

“It wasn't... I suppose I wasn't sure yet. It didn't seem like the right time.”

 

“Well I'm happy for you,” Bofur said, putting an arm around her shoulder. “I really am,” he added gently.

 

Despite the smooth transition into... transitioning, around her friends, Bella had to go through a painful separation with her family, who (as she'd expected, not that that made it hurt any less) practically disowned her when she came out. Or they would have, if she wasn't sole heir to her own estate and couldn't in fact be disowned until she died and left Bag End (a cottage near the size of a mansion on top of a hill) to somebody else in the family. Bless her parents for their foresight and their awareness of the opportunistic scavengers that were her relatives.

 

She still had friends in the family, to be fair. Drogo and Primula adored her, though they often tripped over her pronouns for not being around her often enough—but they were trying, and she was happy to have family who hadn't turned their back on her.

 

* * *

 

 

There were little things that made her appreciate her HRT more and more each day.

 

That day in particular was an encounter in the grocery store, when she bumped into the most gorgeous human specimen she'd ever seen, broad-shouldered and square-jawed, with a nose that could cut butter and eyes like a clear sky.

 

She forgot how to breathe between gathering up the vegetables she'd dropped, and the stranger helped her with the endeavour, giving her a gruff “I'm sorry, miss” and a small but radiant smile.

 

She'd only started wearing dresses for the summer, and she was blushing right through her hair when the stranger called her miss and looked at her with a look that was less confused (she had yet to get the hang of the exhausting effort of looking more feminine, and wondered if the surgery would mean she could go back to wearing comfortable khakis and jumpers without people calling her a man out on the streets) and more interested.

 

They parted ways with some pleasant conversation and the promise to see each other again, though Bella smacked herself later for forgetting to ask for the stranger's name.

 

She didn't expect their next meeting to happen so soon though, when she walked into the clinic she frequented to find the very same beautiful stranger in the sitting room, reading a familiar pamphlet about _Beginning your Transition: What to Expect Long-Term (MTF)._

 

“Bella! Good to see you, come in!” Dori said. “I want you to meet somebody special.”

 

Bella was ushered into the other room to meet the surgeon Oin—a deaf man with a hearing aid he had a penchant for switching on and off when Dori was being particularly shrill, and they talked about her options and helping her make a more informed decision whether she decided to go through with surgery or not.

 

By the time she was done, the stranger was walking out of another room with Ori, and Bella knew it was rude, but when she realized their conversation was at its end, she lingered at the door awkwardly, waiting for the other to meet her eyes.

 

“I, um... fancy seeing you here,” Bella said, tucking a loose strand behind her ear.

 

“I certainly didn't expect to see you again so soon,” said the other, low voice making Bella shiver. “I suppose I should... apologize.”

 

“Apologize?” Bella said, confused.

 

“For leading you on. I suppose when you saw all this,” said the other, gesturing down the toned body, “you expected a... a man.”

 

Bella smiled softly, just a little sadly, though she wiped that off her face with a bit of a wry grin.

 

“I like big girls too,” she said, and the shock on the other woman's face didn't mask her blue eyes lighting right up. “Are you just... are you... is it your first time here?”

 

“At a clinic, yes,” she replied, shrugging helplessly. “My best friend, he... he knew how I felt, for a long time, but I always thought I could just... live with it. I mean, look at me. Who would believe I was a girl anyway? But then he started dating Nori, and he told me to go here so I could at least scope out my options and this is all the rest.”

 

“Well... what did you decide?” Bella asked gently, taking a seat beside the other woman.

 

She was quiet for a long time, looking between them then down at her hands.

 

“I didn't think I could do it either, at first,” Bella said, filling the silence. “I didn't think I'd be very convincing, and I wasn't pretty or anything, I didn't... I didn't _see_ myself as a woman, even if I knew I was one. But I started treatments anyway, felt a bit adventurous, wanted to see how it might turn out. And I've never been happier. It's not without its problems, but I guess, well for me anyway, it was worth it? I'm sorry, I'm babbling.”

 

When a hand reached out to carefully cover her own, Bella felt uncontrollably giddy.

 

“No, I want to know. If that's alright. If you don't mind.”

 

“There's a cafe two blocks down that serves an _amazing_ spiced milk cinnamon latte, if you like.”

 

The smile she got was even bigger than before, the shyness and the insecurity ebbing away at the edges.

 

“Didn't catch your name, by the way,” Bella said as they were out the door.

 

The other woman stopped for a thoughtful moment before making a decision Bella knew must have been important with the way she squared her broad shoulders and said, deliberately, “It's Thorin. My name is Thorin.” 


End file.
